


Hope

by TheSushiMonster



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1306375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In the end, what saves Fitz is Jemma cradling her stomach, blood pooling between her fingers, her cloudy eyes red-rimmed and sad." Jemma's dying and Fitz isn't good with blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope

In the end, what saves Fitz is Jemma cradling her stomach, blood pooling between her fingers, her cloudy eyes red-rimmed and sad.

Fitz moves in a haze, the vaguely shadowed memories of Jemma performing the same tasks countless of times crackling against his vision. He's applying pressure and ignoring the stains on his skin, red crusting on his bare hands. She smiles at him, faintly. "Sorry."

Fitz shakes his head. "No. We will discuss this later, okay? No." It's the only word he can really say,  _no_ , because it's simple and direct and anything else requires mental capacities that are otherwise occupied. Ward's shadow crosses over them momentarily before he ducks behind an adjacent counter, shooting a look at Fitz. Biting his lip, Fitz refuses to meet his eyes.

"Fitz - " she says, softly. He shakes his head again.

She's always been pale, but now, with blood rushing from her face to his hands, she's transparent. He doesn't know anything about what he's doing - he's following her voice in his head, cracking, a collection of memories. He knows nothing about the skin fading into ghostly halos or the blood swirling between his teeth or the bones cracked under his knee or the muscles torn apart by a bullet meant for him.

"Fitz," she says, her voice harder now, stronger. It's so familiar that it stabs him straight through, and he pretends he doesn't have a matching scar on his chest. "Remember - what you promised - "

Her words are red and silver and they clash painfully with the residues of his last hope, a steady golden flicker that throbs between his palms. He presses against the wound, harder. "You're not going anywhere," he says and when his voice begins to crack, just slightly, he shakes his head. "I've got you, baby girl, okay? Stay strong for me."

Jemma doesn't say anything. She stares at him, and he stares back, afraid to look anywhere else. In the back of his mind, he thinks he hears Ward shouting and May responding; he mainly hears the crack of gunfire and bodies hitting the floor though and something about how warm her blood is in his hands makes Fitz want to vomit.

"Remember that time you electrocuted yourself - on the DWARF protoype?" Her voice is shattering and each shard of glass cuts through his heart. "Your hair - it was ridiculous," she says, her smile cut short by a wince when he leans into her stomach. "Fitz - "

"Remember that time you jumped in front of a bullet meant for me?" he says, each word another stone he's chucking at her. He's probably too harsh - she flinches, but that may be since his thumb is digging into her ribs. He eases just slightly, but his voice is still firm. "For a genius, you are a complete idiot."

"Leopold Fitz," she says and in his surprise, the pressure lessens. Her next word is more of a sob and Fitz immediately remedies his mistake. After several deep breathes, Jemma glares at him. "Don't you dare call me an idiot for saving your bloody life."

He's blushing, probably, and somewhere in the back of his mind he realizes that the bullets have stopped firing, but his stomach is screaming and there is still blood up to his wrists. "Stop talking, you're losing too much blood," he says, almost a whisper, and Jemma obliges. "You need to tell me what to do. I don't think there's time to call a medic." If he's honest, Fitz takes pride in how steady his voice sounds.

"You told me to stop talking."

If she wasn't dying in his arms, Fitz may have killed her himself. "Jemma - "

"Get May. She'll be able to - "

"I'm not leaving you." It's not an option, not when Ward's shadow is now tangible and right beside him. "Get May."

When Ward leaves, sprinting, Fitz still can't see. His vision is still blurry and only when Jemma's hand, her nail painted in her own blood, rests on his cheek does he realize he's crying. "Fitz - "

"Jemma," he says: slowly, savoring her name on his lips, because it tastes like berries. "Please."

Jemma smiles. "I'll try."

He's still staring at her eyes when May removes his hands. He's covered in blood, on his fingers and his face, but all he sees is her. She's slipping and falling and climbing again, even when Skye sits beside him, curling her arm into his. While Jemma breathes, inhales life and exhales blood, his heart slows.

Fitz closes his eyes and waits.


End file.
